


Adventures of Gabriel Rossi

by UnbridledArtist



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Death, Dying Will Flames (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn, as slow as I can stand for myself any way, more tags to come, no beta we die like men, people die its a mafia world, reborn into a new world thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:48:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25233406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnbridledArtist/pseuds/UnbridledArtist
Summary: Allen died, I died. I was reborn as Gabriel Rossi, a reluctant heir to the Rossi familia. Death is around every corner, mystical fire being the manifestation of dying will is real, and protecting my family from the end of the world would not have been my first choice of things for a new world to call home. All I want is a good book to read and some tea, is that to much to ask?
Relationships: Byakuran (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 25





	1. Target 1

**Author's Note:**

> OH BOY, okay so this story once upon a time happened on FF.net I deleted everything off there recently and now I have a re-written chapter one for everyone's reading pleasure. I really don't like the old stuff. I wrote it when I was just getting into writing, and during a really bad time in my life.  
> I used to do this thing for character development, where if you asked Gabriel a question I would write a response from his POV. I really liked doing that so if you have any questions for the cheeky bugger ask away! Leave a comment and some kudos to show your love.

**_Target 1_ **

I remember a name, Allen, I think it was mine. I remember dropping out of college, attempting to make a living, and not succeeding. I resented that, regretted even. Allen had also died, by one of the most common killers in North America at the time, distracted driving. Allen wasn’t even the one driving. Now I am Gabriel Rossi, I live with my mother as far as I can tell. I didn’t gain any of her looks. She stood long and lean with platinum hair and hazel eyes. She claimed every morning that I looked like my father. Thick slightly curly black hair and violet eyes was his thing apparently.

I stared at the little wooden blocks that the nanny left me in front of. I was left to my own devices as usual, far too frequently for someone the age of 3, I suppose that the nanny thought everything would be okay so long as I was left in my nursery with all the toys I could possibly imagine. I wandered over to a toy rabbit that might as well have been the same size as myself. I looped my left arm under its arms and around its body. Something about this toy was oddly comforting. Looking around again making sure that I was really left to my own devices, I left to roam this massive house, I found myself in the personal library. I thought that to be a little ridiculous, having a personal library, but it left me plenty to read. Picking up and reading massive tomes almost the size of me and reading in a decently well lit out of the way corner. I have retained a decent bit of knowledge from what I assume was a past life. Allen may not have been studious, but he had a decent amount of myth lore, specifically Greek, as well as English fluency that I would not get here. Sense rebirth the Italian language became my new first language.

I didn’t know how long I sat reading the tome, but I felt myself nodding off. I was in the process of moving the tome back, a slow process in my small size. When I heard screaming. Dropped my tome and did what any other child would do, or I hoped would, I ran over to the toy I had brought with me and hid. There was a great number of hiding spots in this house. I moved to the back of the library. Now one would think, why go to the back of the library when there is clearly no exit there, but there is. An old servants entrance was in the back. The servants had no use for them now, as there clearly was no need for such things in the society of today. However this left me with the advantage of using them to hide and or get anywhere without notice. Once safely behind the hidden door, I slid to the floor and curled up around the bunny toy.

I sat up with a start at the sound of gun fire, it sounded like it was very close. I felt my eyes go comically wide. I stayed staring at the back of the hidden door for what felt like too long. Collecting myself, I shuffled further down the hall hoping that I would remain in darkness if anyone opened the entrance.

“Where is my son?!” I heard a voice bellow. It was the loudest yell I had heard in my life and full of anger. I felt myself shake in my shoes, I thought about the events that happened so far. Gunfire and screaming happened, terrifying, more gun fire later, again terrifying, now a man yelling for his son was very very mad, also scary. While I was thinking someone entered the library. I felt myself go tense.

“That nanny is fired the moment I find my son, clearly not capable of taking care of children.”

“Sir there is an open book here.” I felt myself tense up. Fear flooded my veins and my chest heave with heavy breath.

“That is strange, a book on roman architecture?” I heard some shuffling and tapping on wood. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears now. I couldn’t move, I closed my eyes tight and buried my face into the toy bunny in my arms, and prayed to whoever would listen that I wouldn’t be seen. The knocking found the hollow sounding door for the servant hallways. When it opened I let out an involuntary whimper.

“Sir, it appears there are servants halls in this house, perhaps your son found a way in and is wandering in them?”

“Oh my poor son. Find him Sabino, I’ll be fine. I’ll see if there are any other rooms with these entrances.” With that the two voiced people went their separate ways and one walking right passed me. I waited for what felt like hours before moving. How in the world? I stared at my hands. Soft light indigo fire lifted off my hands in fact all of me and my toy were covered. I felt my jaw drop. I watched as the fire dissipated into nothing. Mist flames? I was baffled. Allen knew something about these. Though it felt like nothing. There are five other types, sky, sun, cloud, storm, lightning and rain. Each had a different ability. Mist was good at illusions. I would have to find a notebook and write down what little I could remember from Allen.

I made my way to a more familiar space, the nursery. Granted the whole way there I had nearly gotten sick several times. The death that littered the halls was stomach turning. Men and women I had only glimpses of in my day to day life lay bleed out on the floors and slumped against walls and even more that I didn’t recognize.

“Young master!” A voice I recognized gained my attention. A much older man, that I knew as the house’s majordomo, Cosimo approached me from down the hall. He quickly picked me up. “Where have you been? we have been worried about you.” Cosimo brushed a hand through my hair. He tucked my head under his chin, I suppose he was attempting to keep me from seeing well... The massacre that was left threw the house.

“I heard screaming and loud noises so I hid.” I stated in a small voice. It wasn’t that hard because honestly I was terrified. People are dead, a lot of people. I was contemplating if it was worth trying to find out why it happened was a good idea, really it wasn’t. While I was lost in thought Cosimo started walking away, I didn’t know where.

“Smart boy, you must be so scared.” I nodded my head. Eventually after some staircases Cosimo came to a stop. “Inform the master that we have found Gabriel, also I want that nanny here now please.” I huffed and squirmed in Cosimo’s arms. This brought Cosimo’s attention to myself, I quite frankly was too warm being held, I had a stuffed toy and an adult body heating my own now and it was too much. “I know you want down Gabe, but please hold out a little longer.” I whined but stopped squirming. I liked Cosimo, he was far more competent than my nanny.

“Gabe!” the sound of my mother's voice made me turn, or attempt to, face her. I was quickly scooped up and held close. Her belly, large with pregnancy, got in the way so she had to hold me on her hip. “Oh my sweet baby!” She ran a hand through my hair, and checked me over, I assumed for any injuries. After she was satisfied that I wasn’t hurt she pointed a finger at my nose. “Where have you been little treasure?” She spoke to me in french, granted I couldn’t quite speak the language back but I understood fine.

“I hid when I heard screaming, and loud bangs.”

“Such a good boy, just like mommy told you to do.”

I watched as I sat with my mother as the two men from earlier, their voices I recognized, chewed the nanny out, in angry whispers. Well one did and the other stood calmly to the side. I have learned in watching this conversation that the one that was saying ‘my son’ is in fact my father. I would say he was tall but most people were tall due to my tinny height as a 3 year-old. He did in fact have the same hair as myself, or I should say I had his hair. He stood in a way where I couldn’t see his eyes.

“Tell me about this toy, little treasure?” I rubbed my eyes a little, and then looked up at my mom. She looked a little sad, now as a lady that happened to be pregnant, that is not good. I leaned my head on her shoulder.

“This is bunny.” Now I know that sounds un-creative but I was pretty sure that children don’t actually name their toys anything other than what they are so bunny will work, it was a rabbit after all. “He makes me feel safe.” I said with a big smile on my face. It wasn’t untrue but it wasn’t the truth either. The toy didn’t make me feel safe, though it felt familiar, it seemed Allen had a toy like it at one point in his life. It felt nostalgic more than anything. I also didn’t like acting like a child, most people around became uncomfortable when I didn’t act like one.

This made my mother smile as she set me down onto my feet. My mother, and the servants around the house, all seemed put off when I was myself. 

“I am sure bunny does. Let's show him to your father.” She took my hand and led me towards the man who was yelling at the nanny. I sighed and pulled the toy closer to my chest. “My love, come away from the nanny and let the guards deal with her, come meet your son.” The angry man gave one final glare at the nanny, said something under his breath and turned to face my mother. He smiled, it made his eyes crinkle. Violet like my own. I really did look like him. I did notice that he was a good half a foot shorter than my mother though. A thought that amused me. He strode over with confidence I rarely saw in anyone. He showered my mother in kisses that made her giggle before she playfully smacked his arm and told him to stop. I was sugary sweet, it almost made my teeth ache. After being chased away by my mother, he turned to face me. Kneeling down so that he could look me in the eye. He smiled at me, though it was small and didn’t take up his full face it made his eyes wrinkle with joy. He took one of my hands in his. I didn’t quite like the invasion of my person and wrinkled my nose, but didn’t protest outside of that.

“Tell me little one where did you hide?” My father’s voice was calm, it seemed like he didn’t want to scare me for whatever reason. I wasn’t foolish, something was going on outside of this mansion that came to the manor. Dealing with guns and seeing flames, I had no doubt that this was something connected to the Mafia. How those things all connected, Allen memories connected to these things, but they were old and fuzzy and felt unimportant to Allen. I didn’t have time at the moment to deep dive into his memories. I wondered briefly if I could peg my good hiding skills with the toy I carried, but I pushed it aside. Succumbing to my fate and giving one last internal sigh I spoke.

“I hid in the hidden hallways!” I chirped with enthusiasm worthy of my toddler form. “Bunny helped protect me.” I added as an afterthought and held up the toy and hid my face from view. This made my father chuckle.

“Did he now? Bunny must be very brave.” I nodded my head in childish agreement. “Little one, how do you feel about going to school?”

I felt baffled, and I was certain it showed on my face. School at the age of 3? That was nearly unheard of. Though, I supposed it would be advantageous. I needed more information before agreeing.

“What do I get to learn at school? Is it more interesting than what I am learning now? Will bunny come with me? Do I get to learn music like mommy? Why do I need to go to school, are there not more competent people that can teach me that can come here?” I asked all my questions in rapid succession. It made my mother laugh at my father’s shock to the sudden bout of questions.

“Ah, your mother did tell me you were an inquisitive one.” He said with a sigh “You will get to learn a great many things, from how to defend yourself to how to control,” he paused for a moment choosing his words carefully “Bunny. I don’t think you will want to bring the toy with you little one. There will be much bigger children there that will take it as weakness and attempt to hurt you because of that. There will be many classes that are held at the school that I am more than sure you will find fascinating. If you wish to take a music class then we can get you into lessons immediately. There are a great many people that could teach you little one, but I fear, just like your nanny, finding good ones will be difficult. The School you will be going to will be very prestigious and have more than adequate teachers. As for why you need to go, you need to go to make friends and connections.” patted my head. “You are my eldest son and heir to the Rossi name, all of these things are important.” I sighed mentally, something I felt was going to become a bad habit. It seemed like I really was going to get involved in the mafia regardless if I wanted to or not. I had no doubt that this school was where a lot of mafia children went. I wish i could drink some tea.

“I suppose I can’t find a reason not to go, but if I don’t like anyone I reserve the right to leave!” I exclaimed. I wondered for a moment if the smile that came to his face was worth having to attend school with snot nosed, I mean children.


	2. Target 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel gets his first taste of mafia school.

**_Target 2_ **

My father had been rather prompt in getting me into school, three days after the incident of a rival familia invading the manor, a seamstress had come to get me fitted for several uniforms; I suppose they expected me to grow fast. The uniform for the school was simple, dress pants and shirt with a school blazer with the school coat of arms over the breast pocket. I was to be in a class of mixed age individuals ranging from my own age of 3 to 6 for the first 5 days of school. Then we would all be placed in classes based on flame aptitude, mental capability and physical skill. How these tests worked in placing children, I didn’t know. I would likely find out once I had taken the tests myself. I sat with Cosimo as he went through and started picking out school supplies for me. I got a lot of leeway with what I got surprisingly enough. The standard school supplies like rulers and math supplies were expected and I did not care much for what they looked like. I got a dozen leatherbound notebooks, I specifically asked for more for personal use. I also got a fountain pen and refills for it. I was really pleased about that. My pencil case looked like a cat face, something that also pleased me. I got an assortment of stickers too, most of them for labeling but a few I stuck on my first personal notebook. Cosimo just stared at me with a fond smile the entire time. 

I sat in front of a child sized desk that was placed in my room now that I would be going to school. With my new fountain pen, a lot of practice went into being able to write with it; writing out the alphabet several times over and using a stack of printer paper in the process, and using up 3 refills for my pen. I opened up my stickered (a few cats, birds, a bunny and paw prints) notebook and began to write down what little Allen could remember. The memories were fuzzy and hard to grasp, there but hidden behind a veil of fog. My focus was on mist flames as that seemed to be a flame that I could use. I started with a quote that Allen remembered.

“Creating something from nothing, and nothing from something; thus bewildering the enemy, to render the Family's true form intangible with visions of deceit”

I pushed my notebook away from me and promptly let my head hit the table. That was all Allen had that I could reach into and use at least what was useful. Allen remembered that a lot of people didn’t like mists or at the very least all the ones that he vaguely recalled were a bunch of either misguided emotionally damaged humans. Not that he could recall who those people were or what their personalities were. I sighed and wrote down a series of other notes under the quote.

‘Mist flames are indigo, a lovely blue in my opinion but that wasn’t important to the notes, and had the property of construction. The purpose of mist flames is to create something to fool the opponent in combat. Tricking them into thinking one thing rather than the truth’ I stopped writing for a moment letting the ink dry. I know I just repeated what I had quoted, but it got my brain turning. How many people with mist flames got tagged as liars and cheats and were pushed to the side because they couldn’t be trusted? Did having a vivid imagination help budding illusionists? Or would that later be dentermential in creating more realistic illusions as they grew up? I had a lot of questions and no answers. I took the time to write down all my current questions and wrote out more as I continued. What were the limits to mist flames, would I be able to fool a body into thinking it had a working limb or organs if any were missing? If yes what would I need in the terms of will to continue to keep that going? How long would someone's body last without real ones? Did the mist organs function like real ones? Would an extensive knowledge of organs being created be valuable in creating these? The same could be said for one's imagination, the more someone knew the more realistic things could be. I sighed and let the ink on my page dry. I would get answers with either experience or I was taught. I wondered briefly if people bothered to feed the creativity of a mist with knowledge or things that interested them.

I stared at the child sized violin. My mother sat in a low backed chair with a full-sizel violin in her hands. I had no idea my mother played the violin. I just know that music from, probably the music room, floated around the manor. At the time I was unable to name the instruments played. I was now in said music room.There was a lovely little sitting area and a piano. It also likely held my mother’s violin and now it would hold my own. My mother smiled at me and motioned toward the child violin.

“I am not a teacher, but I can show you how to hold it and how to do open strings. After you have been settled into school your father and I will have a music teacher for you here at home. They will meet with you once a week.” My mother said as I picked up the little string instrument feeling a little clueless I stared at my mother. She chuckled fondly and helped me. She placed it in my left hand and nestled between my chin and left shoulder. This was going to be awkward. I was starting to feel many regrets for asking for this.

“This is called a bow, this heavy end is called a frog.” My mother handed me the bow to my Violin and placed the bow in my hand, heavy end first. I briefly wondered why in the world they called it a frog of all things, but I decided no one knew the answer any more. My mother shook her head at me and held her own bow showing me how it should be held.

“You need a relaxed grip, my little treasure. It will take time and practice, but you will get it eventually. Fully grown adults also have this issue when learning how to play the Violin.” I sighed and looked at my hand on the bow and glared, relaxing my hand. I wondered how often I would need to correct that till it happened. My mother chuckled, I looked up and her smile was fond. She took a seat in her chair again. 

“I think we can do some open strings now.” She picked up her own violin and ran her bow over the strings. “There are two ways to do open strings, either just running your bow up” she pulls the bow from the tip to the frog “ and down” going from frog to tip. “This method I have just showed you is called bowing. You can also just pluck the strings.” she plucked the strings with her right hand not letting go of her bow. “This is called pizzicato.” It sounded lovely and she made it look easy, I was going to be in a hole of my own making for a while. I placed the bow gently at the tip of the bow and attempted to move in up bow motion. I flinched when the sound was less than to be desired. It grew louder as I got closer to the frog, with an unpleasant crunching sound. My mother laughed.

“Oh little treasure, no one sounds good to start. Relax your hands.” I sighed and did as told. I was not going to be like Allen and stop learning.

Allen’s memories were vague, causing more frustration then anything. The memories came at the most inconvenient of times. Like how Allen had fuzzy memories of playing the flute for a few years but never keeping up with it, sang in choir but never kept up with it. Not motivated to continue to hone those skills. I felt he was lazy. This frustrated me and inspired me to do more than Allen did. To push through when things were hard. Allen was also soft and loved his family and friends showing unwavering loyalty to them no matter how frustrated he got with them, he helped them. I supposed that this wasn’t such a bad trait, though I would have to be a bit more selective with who I gave my loyalty to. I thought briefly of my mother and soon to be baby brother. I suppose it was a good place to start.

I sat in the back of a limo, I thought it was ridiculous and overly expensive. It was a luxury that we could afford though. A week had passed since the seamstress had come to the manor, and I was on my way to school. It had also been 3 days since my first Violin lesson, I admit to being displeased at how little progress was made in that time, but now I had other things to worry about.. School for the second time around was not something I desired to go through, all I could glean from Allen’s memories was mediocre at best. However it was the best place to learn everything I possibly could about flames, or at the very least what the mafia was willing to teach their children about flames of sky. I had too many questions about any of the flames. I also had a lot of questions about what was expected of me. I knew my father is a mafia don. Was I expected to take over the Rossi familia despite my mist flames? I also needed to know more about the Rossi familia, I would have to ask my father to educate me. It wasn’t good to go flying blind to a mafia school, full of heirs and not heirs. I just hoped that it wasn’t going to be boring.

A servant from the manor, Edwardo, escorted me to my classroom. He was also my limo driver. I noted that a lot of other children were with servants or had a bodyguard with them.

“Young master, I will not be able to be on the school grounds during school hours. I will be here once your classes are done.” I beamed up at Edwardo.

“Thank you! Have a good rest of your day Edwardo!” I cheered and ran into the classroom.

A few children were scattered about the room. I dreaded having to talk to them, I suddenly realized that was the point. A mafia don has to be able to make connections and allies. I sighed out loud. A stern looking grey haired man sat in the front of the room behind a desk. I walked up to him and gave a cheerful hello. I didn’t quite like the idea of having to talk to him either, but it was going to be a good way to gauge what the first week of classes would be like. The man lifted an eyebrow at me questioningly. I suppose that many children didn’t bother approaching. He wore a suit much like everyone expected of someone in the mafia. I thought it was classy. The pin on his lapel was indigo. I wondered briefly if this teacher was a mist user. I had no way of telling till I experienced the class.

“Hello, young Rossi.” I was for a split second confused how he knew me but likely this man taught my father, and I looked a lot like him. “What can I do for you?”

“I have a lot of questions, may I ask them now or do I have to wait for class to start?” Or unspoken, find another way to get my answers. The man, I assumed to be my teacher, chuckled at me. 

“You may ask one question at a time, we may not continue after class begins. If any questions remain after class you are free to speak with me” Oh smart man, kept me from listing all my questions at once. I nodded my head in agreement.

“I didn’t get your name, might I know it?”

“Mr. Pagano, and to answer your next question I may or may not be your teacher after this first week.” I think I am going to like this teacher.

“This first week is testing for placements for classes, how does that work? I don’t want to know what my father told me.” Mr. Pagano hummed in thought.

“I cannot tell you because it will influence the results of your tests.” I sighed, he had a good point. It didn’t please me but he was right. Though that did tell me that they took their placements seriously. I really wanted to know the method to their madness but I would have to wait and see.

“What classes will be taken at this school?”

“Classes from flame usage and other things required of a Mafia Donna or Don will be taught along with any language spoken in the world. Grades 1 to 4 focus on fundamentals such as math and language. 5 to 9 focus on more advanced work such as algebra and chemistry. 10 to 12 will focus on college and university level classes, all of them elective. Flame based classes and mafia etiquette lessons are mandatory throughout all grades.” I could feel my soul leaving my body. I briefly looked over at the other kids in the class most of them looked to be around 6 years old. What kind of hell whole forced so much education down children’s throats that they were required to be university level by sixteen! Or was it sixteen, did children still advance past the children their own age here? I looked back at Mr. Pagano and he looked mildly pleased at my distress. I couldn’t help but think that was very rude of him. I sighed.

“Is there assigned seating?” better safe than sorry.

“There is not.”

“Oh wonderful thank you Mr. Pagano!” I chirped and took a seat next to the window and in the second row. A respectable seat. Don’t look like a hooligan trying to sit in the back and to the other kids I wont look like a “teachers pet”. This school was going to be the death of me, I sighed.

I could feel my brain becoming mush. I had spent so much time staring at paper and writing answers that by time lunch came around I couldn’t focus on the paper any more. According to Mr. Pagano lunch was going to be an hour. We had half an hour to eat and then an hour outside to do whatever. I was just glad to have the ability to stretch and not stare at paper any more. Mr. Pagano brought us to a rather large cafeteria, it was extremely classy and full of people. I flinched at the loud noise of one particular student yelling “VOII TAKE THAT BACK” so loud it could be heard across the room. I wondered if that particular student was loud all the time because no one blinked an eye at the outburst. However whispers did break out as we walked passed and to part of a rather empty table. I dared to watch the other students as we passed them. I watched as mist entertained or tormented their fellow classmates with illusions at the table. I noticed one particular storm disintegrate a cup by accident letting out a string of curses. One lightning got the wrath of his table as he let an electrical current through the table as he was responding in anger to something another student said. I might have been a little baffled at how freely people were using flames here. Granted we were in an area where civilians could not be. I took a seat next to a dark green haired boy, marveling for a moment that I happened to be the most normal looking person compared to some of the people here and I had purple eyes. Not too long after taking my seat a waitress showed up at my side.

“What would the young master like for lunch?” She asked with the most professional i have to deal with this bullshit everyday smile I have ever seen. I smiled back at her.

“Can I have bruschetta with a side of pasta of the chief’s choice to go with it please?”

“Yes you may.” With that she disappeared. I took notice of a child, 6 at most, chuckling at me.

“You said please, to the help, why would you do that?” He looked both amused and concerned, the girl who sat next to him giggled. I felt my brain cells dying. Did no one show these kids manners? Or are the teachers going to have to deal with power hungry spoiled brats that think they are the kings and queens of the world? I sighed.

“That is funny,” I said smiling, “My mother taught me manners. Also, the help are the ones that are closest to you, no? They should be trusted, isn’t trust a two way street?” With the baffled look on all the faces around me I decided that ignoring them was for the best. I didn’t feel like interacting with children that thought the world was theirs. My lunch was rather tasty otherwise.

My brain felt like moosh. Allen, for all his worth, did not have a university level understanding of math. At the very least his memories gave me enough to comprehend sine cosine and tangents, though foggy memories weren’t enough to finish the math test that was placed in front of us. I wondered how many children gave up on the test once they had gotten past the things they knew. I wondered if I could copy memories from someone’s head and never have to study math again if I took their extensive knowledge on math with mist flames. An interesting concept I would have to explore later. The final bell rang and I sighed and packed up my bag and left the classroom. Edwardo stood on the other side waiting for me and nodded in greeting. I felt excited to go home and nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. My friend who plays the violin gave me some tips on how to write about the first lesson and how it might go. I will be probing their brain in the future for more information probably. 
> 
> Really if you want to comment and give some talking about what goes on here please do! I also have a Tumblr! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/unbridledartist
> 
> Really don't be afraid to talk to me. I am friendly I promise.
> 
> Leave a Kudos and a comment! I see every one of them and they are very encouraging.


	3. Target 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What can flames do? Also school is fun right?

**Target 3** **  
  
**

I winced as I gripped my pen and opened my notebook. With the number of tests I have taken in the last week I felt drained and my hand not only hurt from practicing the Violin but also because of the sheer amount of writing that I had to do. I put down my pen and bemoaned about the reasons why my hand hurt. I looked at my left hand and contemplated teaching myself how to write with my left hand. I sighed and picked up the pen with my left hand and started to write very slowly. I had notes to make on flames damn it.

Allen was quickly becoming unreliable for knowledge so I needed to get as much written as possible before it was nothing but vague memories. I quickly decided that the rest of my notes would be done alphabetically and in English for simplicity's sake. That meant cloud flames were the next to get written about.

“A drifting Cloud, whom cannot be bound. Protecting the famiglia from an independent standpoint.” I bit my lip at how vague that was. What did that mean?! Independent in the field of combat? Independent as they don’t need to work within a familia to be effective? Why in the world was this the only information Allen had? Who the hell did I have to talk to, to get more information?! Allen had an impression that cloud flames were purple. Neat, but not useful. I stared at my notes and racked my brain for any more information I could get. Propagation came to mind and I felt my eyes go wide. Cloud flames could be the most deadly flames in the list. What were the limits of what they could multiply? Could a cloud flame user multiply at a cellular level? Could they recreate real physical tangible organs? Could they create cancerous growth and slowly kill a person? Could they make something larger than it is? A thief could duplicate a very valuable object with flames leaving people to believe that it wasn't stolen till days or months later when they let go of the will to keep the copy around. I wrote this all down and started a new page.

“To draw damage to himself and away from the rest of the Famiglia, serving as a lightning rod” If I wasn’t Allen, or I assumed I was him, then I would have words with this man for having forgotten so goddamn much. I sighed. Lightning flames were green and looked like lightning. Did it work like electricity? Did it have the same properties? Apparently it could harden, interesting. Did that mean one could become impenetrable? Would they be able to create an immovable object? Would they be able to kill someone with a tissue? Or use it as a shield? Would Lightning flames allow for the user to be immune to electricity if they tired? Would the user need to focus on it or would it be passive? Could Flame abilities be passive? That was a thought for another day I moved on to the next on the list. I already wrote about mist flames as they are the most relevant to me so that put me at rain flames.

“To square away conflict and wash away the blood spilled. The Requiem of Rain.” I felt like some of these were intentionally vague and just done to annoy me. Blue, they are in colour and tranquility is their ability. Did that mean they had the ability to put someone into a state of calm and lead the opponent into a false sense of security? Did it act like water? In that case did it slow down the people caught in the flames? Could they put someone to sleep? Could they turn their flames into a razor edge that could cut through metal? If rain flames acted like water could they freeze like water? Could a rain user freeze a person? Would moving rain flames feel like trying to tredge the cold water of the ocean? 

“Sun, Lightning, Storm, Rain, Mist, Cloud-- He envelops them all, he accepts them all. That is the Sky's purpose” Harmony, I remember that. Something about Stone? Did Sky flames have the ability to petrify a person? Could sky flames mimic the abilities of the other flame types? I would have to come back to this. I didn’t know enough about them for now. They appeared as orange.   


“Continuously at the heart of the attack, the furious Storm that never rests.” Fire, this flame acted like fire and happened to also be red. Very interesting. Could someone with storm flames burn off poisons they consume? Would they be able to control their emotions at any given moment by controlling what chemicals they could ‘burn away’? Disintegration was their ability; could they make something of organic material rot? Could they burn away other flames? And in that regard would rain flames be able to counter that? On a cellular level could they burn away viruses and bacteria? There were a lot of things that could be useful in the field of medicine for storm flames.

“Destroying the misfortune that attacks the Famiglia with their own body, they become the Sun that brightly shines upon an area.” Sun flames… could in theory work the same on the body as cloud flames. Activate to the point where you create a cancerous growth. Blood clot in the brain. All very scary things. In theory they could be immortal or appear to be. Activation is what they could do seems to be healing but to activate is to make something active or operational. It seemed like it was difficult to do much outside of supporting the people around them or healing themselves mid combat to prevent others from being injured. They are yellow in colour.

I stopped writing as my left hand began to ache much like my right. I whimpered and closed my notebook. I would have to touch on my notes later. Who knows now that we were taking flame aptitude tests at school today and we would learn some new things! 

There were many children in the auditorium of the school. Many of them are older than me. Most of them appeared to be about 6. Not surprising, I knew I was young. 3 was not an age you would expect children to be in school for. Let alone talk in full sentences and get dressed on their own. I refused to let someone else dress me for longer than need be. It was one thing when I couldn’t walk. I was also the smallest in the room. Not that this mattered much as the seats were comfortable and the room looked more like a theatre. They had us line up in rows alphabetically. This meant I was near the back of the auditorium. The teachers in the room began to pass out paper to all of us. It was blank and narrow and more suited to be a bookmark then a sheet of paper for writing on, or a printer. 

“Now all of you are aware that today is your flame aptitude test.” A portly old man with a green pin on his lapel stood on the stage and his voice was projected enough that we could all hear. Impressive. I had to squint to focus on him, Allen had blurry memories of needing glasses, I wondered briefly if I would need them too. I thought as I ignored the excited murmur around the room. “Not all of you will be flame active. In fact most of you won't be until you are teens.” The children in the room all seemed rather disappointed with this. Notably one child not far down from him scoffed and told someone next to him that he had active flames and didn’t need to prove it to any one. I rolled my eyes. “Some flames have the potential to activate early. More often than not, Mist flames activate around your age. Some powerful Sky’s also activate around your age.” I felt my blood freeze. Of course this would not be about testing for active flame users at the ripe age of 6 it would be about finding sky’s. I didn’t like that concept at all. Find a sky flame active child young enough and bring them into your family and you have a loyal mafia indoctrinated sky that will do anything for your family. Gross. “Now I want all of you to close your eyes.” I refused, and tuned out the man on the stage and looked around the room at all the children listening obediently. The teachers around the room paying attention to the paper in our hands. I wondered if the paper worked briefly like the vongola rings. The man at the front of the room was teaching children how to use their flame if they were flame active. I should have been paying attention but I didn’t do that. I was busy looking around the room at all the children. There had to be a little over 100 of them, us, I was still a child too. I wanted to see who else had flames, and what colour they were. 7 children had their paper go up in indigo fire, 2 for both red and green. 1 blue and yellow. Notably no purple or orange. The little boy a few seats away had red fire. That was not a lot of children with active flames. I stared at my own sheet of paper and thought about the day I wanted to hide away from someone who potentially wanted to kill me. I thought about that feeling, will. It could be described as a lot of things that day. I felt the flames beneath my skin tickling my fingers. I didn’t want the paper to burn up. That wouldn’t be fun. I made it fold up into a narrow airplane and launched it into the auditorium. I wondered if I could make it look like a paper bird briefly and decided that I could and thought about the tiny sparrows and what they looked like and what it would look like here. I focused on it and watched as it turned into a little sparrow mid flight. It dropped a bit before flapping its wings and circling the room. I felt pleased with myself as children started to squeal over their being a bird in the room. I smiled to myself. I wondered if most mist users just had a good imagination. 

A sudden hand on my shoulder spooked me from my thoughts and cut off my concentration and ended my illusion at the same time. I turned as the bird turned back into a paper airplane and dropped on a poor unsuspecting child. Mr. Pagoda stood behind me with a smirk on his face.

“You show a great deal of promise, though... Never mind.” I felt attacked! My vision problems showed in my illusion! I felt like crying, no I am not going to cry. I took a deep breath. “No more of that for now.” Without so much as letting me speak he turned to stand by the edge of the room once more. I huffed and turned to face the front of the auditorium. I hoped the Flame related classes were more informative than whatever this was. 

Soon enough full groups of kids were taken out of the auditorium. Eventually 15 children, including myself, remained. The portly man that guided everyone in using their flames for the first time encouraged us to move forward and sat down at the edge of the stage. I didn’t want to get too close to any of these children. They were still children after all, I doubted that they had any measure of maturity. Also children are covered in germs. I kicked my feet back and forth. I was far too short for my feet to touch the ground. I glared at my feet, I hoped that would change soon. The Portly man cleared his throat, gaining my attention. 

“All of you are incredibly intelligent for your age. The 15 of you will spend the morning with students your own age. If you are exemplary you will be moved up to interact with older children so you are given a challenge. The rest of your classes will be up to you. All your academic classes, such as math, science, history, geography or italian will be high school level and you will start in year 5 of these courses.” The blissful silence the children in the room had while paying rapt attention pleased me to no end. Perhaps these children weren’t so bad. I might regret that thought later though. “You are required to take Italian years 5 thru 9, math years 5 thru 8, Science and history will be 5 thru 6. And year 5 geography. You will be taking year 1 physical education, etiquette, flames, music and art. Of course 2 elective courses.”

I took a deep breath, that was a lot of classes. This school was brutal. “Your parents are expected to get you tutors for outside school hours. Now I expect you to raise your hand if you want to ask a question. About half the kids raised their hands, myself included, though it wasn’t as fast or as eager as the other children. “Young Rossi.” I was motioned too much to my surprise.

“What elective classes can we pick? Next year after we are finished Geography do we get another elective? After we complete mandatory classes will all our classes be elective?” The Portly man smiled at me and raised his hand.

“Peace! One question at a time. There are dozens of classes you can choose from and all of them will be available for you to inspect once we move to course selection. Yes once you complete a mandatory class electives are required to take its place.” The portly man answered a few more questions from the rest of the children in the room. I tuned out their chatter as I thought about what classes to take. Perhaps Languages would be acceptable.

I stared at the newly printed off sheet of paper that showed what classes I had. In the morning, like everyone else here, I had Etiquette, Flames 101, Music, Art and Physical Education. Each had a different allotted time. Etiquette, Flames and Physical Education all had 1 hour of time, Music and Art took half an hour each. The first class started at 7:00 am. I bemoaned the idea of having to come to school so early. I had Italian right after physical education and that ended at 11 am leaving a full hour for lunch. I had Science, History, Math, English and Spanish in the afternoon. Each was an hour long. I expected English to be an easy credit due to Allen’s memories leaving me with a fluency to it that probably wouldn’t be expected of a 3 year old. Regardless, having physical proof of fluency was better right? I was however disappointed that I couldn’t find space for French my mother’s native language. I wanted that easy credit too. Though I didn’t expect it to be as easy as English. Perhaps I could get my mother to help with that, get some tutors at home. I was going to need more possibly if things continued the way the school demanded. All in all I had 10 hours spent in classes alone. I would be at the school from 7 am to 5pm. I would get home for dinner, then likely spend the rest of my time at home studying. And that didn’t include club activities, I would avoid those as much as I could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Nice to meet all of you! please don't be afraid to leave a comment.  
> Give me some kudos I see them all! Promise


	4. Target 4

_**Target 4** _

The first week of classes was nearly murder. Etiquette was hell. All the children my age not in the ‘gifted students’ part were all rather, well, childish. I had made an alliance with one of the gifted girls. Enrica Guerriero for our Etiquette classes. We both disliked the idea of interacting with the messy heathens and so we convinced the other gifted children to pare up for all things that needed paring up. Dancing, tea or coffee etiquette, ballroom etiquette. If pares of people were required then we would have predetermined groups. It worked rather well and I didn’t have to interact with germs more than necessary. Our Flames classes are basic and covered the bare minimum of the knowledge I knew and was very Vongola centric. Not surprising considering the power house that they are in the mafia. I noticed immediately that all the students started to treat me with distrust after our lessons on mist flames. I scoffed. If I was going to be treated differently I might as well take it in stride and give them a reason to. Hiding secrets is something I was certainly good at, but that didn’t make me a liar. Music was lovely and a continuation of my Violin lessons at home. The other children were far behind me in terms of music so I was moved ahead by a few years. Apparently having an understanding of sheet music and being able to read it allowed for higher levels of classes. Though I was slow going in my learning of the Violin it was better then what the school expected from a first year who had likely never touched an instrument a day in their life. Art was also fun, but… the mess the other children made was cringe worthy. I tried my best to keep out of the glitter zone. Physical education was not what I expected it to be. It was more like self defence 101 and I hated it. They worked you hard in that class and I was dead last here. From what I noticed older students actually got to use weapons. Of course there were also sports, european football was very popular after all. I also had no interest in sports. My language classes were reliably easy, though my handwriting was messy I was able to write most words legibly in Italian, Spanish and English. Spanish was the only language that I didn’t know much about, Allen had only known enough spanish threw some children’s shows because of his youngest brother, thus not much knowledge to pull from. Though it turns out modern Italian was very similar to Spanish so it wasn’t that difficult currently. Science, Math and History were adequately challenging and up to par with my current understanding of the classes. History was a little different, more focused on mafia and Italy. I soaked it all up like a sponge and wondered privately how much was propaganda and how much was the truth. My mother had been ecstatic when I asked her for private lessons in French. She immediately demanded that the only language I speak after school would be French. 

I crawled into the back seat of the limo and laid face first into the leather padded seat and groaned with my misery. School sucked. A chuckle from Edwardo was expected but the scoff from an unknown voice made me sit up and stare at the intruder. A kid older than myself, just by size alone with very white short hair, sat in the limo. I lifted an eyebrow at him in question. He wore the school uniform and was clearly a student.

“Voi! What are you looking at?!” He shouted at me. I flinched at the sudden volume change while I adjusted myself to be sitting properly in the limo. I was suddenly reminded of my first day of school. 

“Ah, no need to yell at me in order for me to listen,” I said in an even tone “I was just wondering what you are doing in my limo. I wasn’t told anything about having a guest come back with me today.” The window between passenger and driver lowered then.

“Young master, it seems that this was a last minute change in plans. I apologize for not informing you sooner, but you don’t like staying in school longer than necessary.” I sighed Edwardo was a gem. I motioned my hand non committedly, and the window went back up as Edwardo chuckled.

“Ah, are you a cloud then?” The loud older boy surprisingly had volume control and was speaking in a normal acceptable tone for inside a car. I huffed at his question and looked out the limo window.

“No, I am not,” I looked at him without moving my head. “Flames play no part in personality, why does everyone assume what flame type they have based on personality if it is constantly proven otherwise.” It was a rhetorical question. I didn’t expect an answer but the boy looked surprised at my response however. I turned my head to face him then, pulling out my best smile for diplomacy “I am afraid I don’t know your name, I am Gabriel Rossi, though I think you know that already. Might I know your name?” I watched as the boy slowly blinked, thrown through a loop for a second time in such a short period of time.

“Squalo Superbia” 

”It’s a pleasure to meet you Squalo!”

The rest of the car ride was peaceful as Squalo stared out of the window. I pulled out my homework and tackled a good portion of it. I didn’t want to have to do Spanish or Italian at home when I would have to speak French. I didn’t bother warning Squalo about the restriction my mother set in place, sink or swim. English was done during class. Most of my morning classes didn’t have homework. 

The front doors to the Rossi manor opened as I approached. Servants lined up to great me as I entered. I gave my ‘I am home greeting’ in French as was expected. Cosimo approached with two other butlers, one took our jackets and the other carried our school bags.

“Young master, your mother requests your presence in the tea room. Dinner will be served in an hour so don’t spoil your appetite with too many sweets.” Cosimo had taken over my care now that I was in school and a full time nanny wasn’t needed any more. I suppose my father didn’t like the idea of hiring a new nanny after the first one failed so spectacularly. Though I expected a new nanny would be hired soon because of my mother’s pregnancy. “Master Squalo, your mother is also in the tea room with the lady of the house. I will escort the two of you there now.” Cosimo had also taken up to helping me with my French. Squallo just huffed and followed Cosimo.

The tea room was very well lit and had very big windows. I also didn’t have to climb any stairs with my short little legs. I smiled at my mother as I approached.

“Hello mother, I am home!” I greeted her cheerfully. Cosimo pulled out a chair for myself to sit in and pushed it back in after I had sat down. Both Women cooed at me in rapid fire French. Squalo looked a lot like his mother. She had long white hair and eyes that he clearly inherited too. What threw me off were the similarities to my own mother. Same cheeks same nose. I placed some French macarons on my plate as a servant poured me some juice, 3 was apparently too young for tea. Squalo huffed as he sat down himself and greeted his mother.

“My little treasure, this is my sister Lucilla, and her son Squalo!” My mother beamed at me as she placed my hand on her stomach. My little sibling gave a kick startling me and leading me to stare at her stomach in wonder. My mother gave a light laugh that sounded like wind chimes. I shook myself from my train of thought and turned to my aunt and cousin. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet both of you.” To end any further conversation I took a bite of a macaron, it was strawberry flavored. My aunt laughed a full hearty laugh at my behavior. Look if it was impolite to talk with your mouth full then keep it full when you didn’t want to talk to people.

“You seem very smart for your age Gabriel, tell me how your classes have been?” I squinted while eating my macaron, I stuffed food in my face and you still want me to talk? I looked over at my aunt and quickly came to the conclusion that she noticed that I didn’t want to talk but was making me anyway. Rude. Swallowing my food and taking a sip of my juice to wash it down I stared at my aunt.

“School is fine. I am above other children older than me by 3 years in many of my classes. Etiquette is the worst, the other children that are in higher education classes have all teamed up to avoid the worst of the more distractible children. I am eager to learn more about my flames.” Articulating that in french was rather difficult, it wasn’t as smooth as I would have liked it to be and was full of ums but it got the point across. Squalo got a chuckle at my mention of more distractible children, I left out that I thought they were gross and I didn't want to be near any of them with a ten foot pole. I liked that being very intelligent for my age was very much so accepted now that I was in school, also encouraged. I didn’t like the workload but thankfully homework was minimal, but it was still there.

Squalo coughed hiding what sounded like a chuckle again while my aunt blinked at me. She smiled then.

“Just like your father, many faces to you then treasure.” I scoffed and glared at her. She was not allowed to use my mothers nickname for me. Thank you very much. I huffed and turned my head away from my aunt to look at my mother. Squalo was laughing now himself and my mother had a smile.

“Mother, I have homework to finish, may I be excused?”

“Yes, you may, little treasure.” She patted my head before I got out of my chair. As I approached the door my aunt asked if my mother was okay. I turned around and looked at the three of them. My mother looked briefly in pain and my cousin and aunt looked concerned. Instead of leaving I ran back over to my mother concerned. Only to flail when I noticed a wet spot on my mother’s dress. Did her water break? Squalo was first to respond and made a dash for the door and called for a servant. I blinked owlishly frozen in shock. My baby brother was on the way!!! I quickly made an illusion of a hummingbird and sent it off to Cosimo. 

The next few hours was a panicked mess. I fell asleep on Squalo’s shoulder while my mother, aunt and midwife who had been paid to stay close by delivered my baby brother. I woke to Squalo shaking me awake. I sat up with a start and blinked at him. Rubbing his own eyes he motioned to the now open room. I moved quickly then and flailed out of my seat and into the room. My mother sat with my new sibling on her shoulder supporting his head. She looked sweaty and tired but very happy. She noticed me and smiled and patted the bed next to her motioning for me to sit there. I climbed onto her bed and crawled over and sat next to her. My mother pulled me close to her with her free arm.

“Do you want to hold your baby brother?” She asked quietly. I nodded my head maybe a bit too enthusiastically. She arranged my arms resting my left elbow on her thigh. She placed my baby brother in my arms making sure that his head was well supported. I stared down at my brother as he slowly blinked up at me with violet eyes and wispy barely there white hair. His shin pink from being so new to the world. Dad’s eyes and mom’s hair. I heard a click of a camera and looked up from my brother to see my Aunt with a polaroid in one hand and camera in the other with a smile on her face. My father rushed in and gave a fond smile at us and came over and brushed the top of my baby brother's head. He kissed my mother’s cheek and called her beautiful. She smacked his arm and laughed.

“What shall we call him?” My father asked and then kissed my forehead. I wrinkled my nose at the contact mouths where gross don’t do that. I promptly zoned out to stare at my baby brother who was falling asleep in my arms. He was so small and innocent. Not a care in the world but for food, cuddles and a clean diaper. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt him. My mother’s laugh caught my attention enough for me to look up and see my father and mother smiling at me fondly. 

“Do you like you baby brother? His name is Niccolò.” My mother tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I looked down at my brother.

“Niccolò,” I paused for a moment “I like him better than the other children at school.” The round of laughter threw the room was loud, making Niccolò fuss. I shushed them all only for it to cause them all to laugh some more. Today wasn’t so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay it's been a while! Hi how are you? Friendly reminder that your author lives off comments and kudos! I really do read every comment and I really do like to make up little replies from Gabriel's POV, it helps with any writer's block. ;D so if you have any questions to be afraid to ask. I know currently good old Gabe is like 3 but that is okay!
> 
> Side note I didn't realize it till i was describing 11 year old Squalo that I hadn't in any of the chapters describe Gabriel's mother. Yes her maiden name is Superbia. 
> 
> Also also this was supposed to be at the end of target 3 but I felt like it was getting a little to long so if it feels Janky that is why.


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